Raenyste Eldermist
NO'' information on this page may be used IC at ANY point. If you'd like your character to know of mine, discuss it with me in-game. This is NOT an IC writing nor a reference sheet for people to use.'' "Have you felt it..?" The martyr gave an enigmatic susurration, her porcelain body wine-stained, rosewater coursing around her, "Have you felt death's hands?" Physical Description A doll, painted so pale, built so delicately; such an imperiously lunar, ethereal effigy seemed out of place in a world where her porcelain could be so easily shattered, much closer resembling a niffin from a spirit-rapt world of dreams than any creature of reality. She left a trail of sacrificial blood in her path as she wore her ineffable air of tragedy like a perfume. Sweeping ebony lashes were often meekly lowered, brushing against the soft slope of velveteen, rosy cheekbones tenderly. When not bashfully hidden, though, her eyes could outshine a thousand lights. Misty hues of silver glimmered radiantly, catching and reflecting light in luminous aubades. Reminiscent of starlight, they were phantasmically candescent. Mesmerizing, almost, as her stelliform oculi glistened in feathery fluxes. A lustrous seashine left her to appear to be on the precipice of tears. She had a melancholy sort of beauty; evocative of a ball-jointed doll. Plump, roseate lips were as soft as the petals of a cherry blossom, sitting in a perpetual pout, hiding dainty fangs of sharpened canine teeth behind them. Framing such an angelic countenance were locks of pearly white, spun silver, cascading down her form in a deluge to her feet, like a cloak of snowfall. Faerie light seemed to be laced in her very nearly opalescent tresses, akin to when light hits the snow just right, causing an eos. Braids and pins held in iridescent crow feathers, an accessory that she held very dear; most commonly, three were behind an ear, and two held at the base of a braid on one side of her front. It was as if the cosmos had graced this niffin with the very essence of its ethereal, haunting beauty. Nearly diaphanous, alabaster skin seemed as delicate as the wings of a butterfly, as if a contusion would be marked at the lightest touch. A supple, willowy frame was as delicate as a wisteria, the angles of wispy bones visible. An ample bosom, perhaps a shade large for her frame, was followed by an incredibly thin waist, complimented by the distend of her hips and swell of her lavish derriere. Lissome curves matched with long legs made for an alluring silhouette, exalted by the dancer's grace of her mannerisms. Purity was only obscured by a single, old wound that never healed correctly; the skin on the front and back of her neck, though scar tissue had attempted reformation of the skin, it wasn't mended together, and instead was kept laced together with thick black sutures. Dainty hands found solace in the familiarity of certain objects on her person, which she can be found to toy with in a way that suggests reminiscing. Her jewelry consists of: a leather choker with upside down metal crosses, a dogchain style necklace, and a silver ring with a peculiar aura of void and arcane, almost living, even, as if it were a phylactery for something. A pistol engraved with the word 'Phantom' is seldom far. The staves and weaponry she may carry are haunted by a cloud of white, with dew falling just to disappear in the air soon after. It faintly illuminates her path. Personality She left a trail of sacrificial blood in her path as she wore her ineffable air of tragedy like a perfume. She was a vitiated martyr; a flower that bloomed too early, before the last freeze. A doll with a crack in her porcelain was left to traipse this world, and perhaps others, as she waited for the snow to melt that obscured the clarity of her reality. All beings have a silver cord from their heart, connecting them to unspoken realms, but not all know how to access that level of supereminence. Spirits often find themselves clinging to the little niffin if a loved one is near, begging her to pass on their messages of love and loss. These supernatural connections caused her to come off as quite cryptic and eerie, often aware of strange, uncanny things due to these hauntings. She seemed to catch onto things that were an impossibility through the hints dropped by the dead. As the light of the sun had forsaken her, she turned to drink in a new light; that of the stars. Gaining the gift of foresight through astromancy, she is able to divine the future, but, still has strides to go until she truly can learn interpretation to a degree that it would be considered adept. She was simply a stargazer who had fallen down a rabbit hole. It all has a meaning in kismet, to her. Fleeting, intangible things slipped between her slender digits like water, freezing to crash to her heart like sleet. In ephemeral moments, a glassy string of silver would materialize, winding across the niffin's hands and seemingly originating from the chambers of her heart. This silver cord is a metaphysical thing, pulling itself into another realm when certain astral magics were used, showing the connection of body to soul. She may have even felt the ghostly limbs reaching out to drag her further into the death-drunken abyss as she uses this gift to access the Shadowlands and its estranged, lamented denizens, with whom she could traverse here and there, now and then. Dainty hands found solace in the familiarity of certain objects on her person, which she can be found to toy with in a way that suggests reminiscing. Her jewelry consists of: a leather choker with upside down metal crosses, a dogchain style necklace, and a silver ring with a peculiar aura of void and arcane, almost living, even, as if it were a phylactery for something. A pistol engraved with the word 'Phantom' is seldom far. The staves and weaponry she may carry are haunted by a cloud of white, with dew falling just to disappear in the air soon after. It faintly illuminates her path. Time is a heavy burden, but, the gravity of space is much heavier. As she grows closer toward understanding her supernatural boons, she becomes distanced from other things in life, from reality. Emptier. Empty-- like, space, she guesses. She was an eerie, cryptic, fey creature. Laconic, she spoke in riddles and enigmatic prose that left many things to be interpreted. She was nearly impossible to read, so often unclear to the outsider looking in. A natural boon was thrust upon her, however, for unfolding and analyzing things; perhaps, too many things-- she often became paranoid by her own volition, but, was uncannily able to read others. Every coin has two sides; but, she seemed to obscure the one side of her own. While she was proficient at connecting the dots and analyzing others, it was rather difficult for the same to be done to her. Something always maintained was that her intentions were immaculate. Martyrdom became her chosen promenade for this. Never prone to naively fantasize, the fictions in her mind were not things that she could live while she was awake. The darling little creature had a life of chaos, from the moment she had run from her fate. There must be a dangerous, disquieting hope deep within her, however. It can't be a tragedy, after all, she has the cosmos at her fingertips, and her heart still beats as the hourglass of her life seems to repeatedly turn itself upended to allow the sands to flow again. History Early Life Raenyste Etherine Ante'faramos, loosely translated to Ancient Fate from an old tongue, was born 77 years ago on October 16 in Dalaran City to two Quel’dorei; a mage mother and father, being one of two daughters and one brother. Her family line was pureblooded, untainted, much closer to their Highborne ancestors than most had differed off from, resulting in sharpened fangs and silver hair within her bloodline. They were virtuosos of the arcane arts, many of them taking an interest in the Blue Dragonflight, and becoming dragonsworn. She was almost always kept a secret, and not much is known of her family. Parents were rumored to have been killed, so the two sisters and their brother were transported to Silvermoon City to begin training in the arcane arts, which was her first time integrating into Quel'dorei society outside of the ones in Dalaran. Raenyste didn't want to fulfill the destiny that ran in her family, so she ran away at age 17. Deciding she was old enough to handle herself, most of her childhood was spent hopping between various caretakers until she joined the priesthood. A child hearing ghosts is really such a curious thing, and it confused those around her. It was a burden she wouldn’t embrace until much, much further down the line. Vanilla Raenyste's spot on the front lines to heal was secured. Though young, she knew how to handle herself better than most, always having a certain air of calm about her. Her family name became dropped, and she replaced it with the surname Dawnspell. She aided the forces opening the temple of Ahn'quiraj, and this is where her Old God fascination started. There was empathy for the insectoid race she had slain. She could hear their spirits, and often traveled to the land she and her allies had razed from them under the guise of learning beginner druidism from the Cenarion Circle. She stayed in high standing with the military forces until the opening of the Dark Portal. Burning Crusade With the Third War, Raenyste had taken the Fel that Kael'thas had introduced to his people, siding with the Sin'dorei and choosing to become one with the Horde. With them, she met the Tauren, gaining an interest in their studies. Losing her standing with the military due to her tendencies of running off, Raenyste found herself in with a new group of people. These people became her first guild. No matter the circumstances, she fought by their side. One incident of this was the assault on the Sunwell; and though she had sworn off her Ante'faramos name and the destiny of becoming a mage and possible dragonsworn, she still was hopelessly fascinated with the happenings of the Blue flight. She felt a sense of detachment from the aspect Malygos, and instead decided to verse herself in the power of Leylines. She studied the Arcanimicon, and attempted to interpret it. When the Netherwing Flight was discovered, Raenyste's resentment for Malygos was furthered when he tried to absorb their power. Her dislike for Kalecgos began here, and was only furthered later. While studying in the Outland, Raenyste became acquainted with the Scryers, beginning to reconnect with her arcane roots. The Second Battle of Grim Batol brought Raenyste to fight against the Black Dragonflight. Wrath of the Lich King Still with the same guild, Raenyste would still be a prominent healer in their ranks, raising her status to that of a commander. She found herself aiding the events in Coldarra, and especially the Nexus Wars. She was on the side of the Blue Dragonflight, fighting against the Red Dragonflight and many mortal champions. With Malygos's defeat, she furthered her research in Leylines, and earned herself the title of a Ley Walker. She wasn't the most adept at running from her fate, as she so called it. It was possible that she encountered other members of her family during this time unknowingly, as her brother had become elevated to Ley Walker status, and her sister a dragonsworn. She managed to almost live a double life during this time, because she quickly switched her attention to the secrets of Ulduar. She became acquainted with the Sunreavers during this time. The fall of the Lich King brought a sense of victory to the priestess, and yet she wanted to become more of a fighter, and began to dabble in shadow arts. The ancient underground city of Azjol-nerub became a frequent research location, and, once again, the slaughter of the insectoid races brought her great sadness. Cataclysm Raenyste and her guild were adamant in the fight against the Twilight Dragonflight, but she seemed to almost have a vendetta against them. Finding the news of dragons no longer being able to reproduce and the aspects being mortal, she lost much of her faith. The bombing of Theramore angered her further. She was always the type to prefer the good of Azeroth over the good of one faction, and her true allegiances lied with Quel'thalas, and with the Tauren. The election of Kalecgos as the new leader of the Blue Dragonflight angered her, and she still resents him. Her guild had been falling apart during this time, and many of the members died or went missing. This is when she decided to withdraw herself from society, focusing more on shadow magic than her previous holy magic, and abandoning any sort of interest in Leylines. She wanted to stay hidden, and she was quite good at it. The Twilight Dragonflight became a sort of morbid interest to her. Mists of Pandaria Raenyste wasn't in public much during this time, and instead devoted herself to study of the Old Gods. She harbored a fierce dislike toward the Black Dragonflight, and the existence of them again angered her greatly. She only emerged again to aid the Sunreavers much more in their onslaught on the Isle of Thunder, and attempted to save them from the Purge of Dalaran, where she lost many of her friends from her time as a Ley Walker. Her profile was still kept low while she assisted the Sin'dorei, mostly because of questionable involvements; her interest in the darker side of Azeroth grew. The Klaxxi became an interest to her, and she became close friends with certain members. The fall of the Paragons left a hole in her heart. She refused to fight against them, and wouldn't aid the Siege of Orgrimmar due to the fact that she would've had to witness their deaths. Warlords of Draenor Raenyste finally returned out of her long period of not doing much during this time, but didn't ever attempt to aid anyone in Draenor. She was reunited with her sister, and received the news of her mother still living. While she did travel to the alternate timeline, it was mostly on her own accord to make discoveries. She found some interesting relics, but nothing noteworthy. Her true descent into the rabbit hole of Void magic started during this time, as her fascination with the Old Gods grew. The voices of spirits were pushed aside as she decided to embrace the Void, a power that had gripped her interest since the very beginning. Within this time is where she truly began to grow up, her naive fantasies of life being pushed aside as she began to hold deeper onto reality. Legion Raenyste hates the Legion even more than she hates the Black Dragonflight, and this became the time where she would truly get herself involved in affairs again. Now with her research in Void magic practically done to the fullest extent, she fought alongside the races of Azeroth to repel the Burning Legion. Everything became different for her after the opening of the Tomb of Sargeras. Her death sparked an intense change within herself, as she barely was able to pull herself back to life, only with the aid of her former lover's chronomancy could she survive. Her abilities as a medium began to grow due to this stronger connection to death, and the voices of ghosts clinging to her became near unbearable. This began a dreadful chain of events characterized by abuse, ultimately congregating in Raenyste’s interest in death piquing when she finally made it tangible, resurrecting the man who had done the same to her. A stark change took place somewhere in her heart, and she now directs herself away from the powers of the Void, instead turning to drink in the Light of the stars as some sort of astromancer, gaining the gift of foresight (that she still had strides to go before it would be considered any good). Without the whispers of the Void taunting her, she learned how to make her supernatural so-thought curse of spirit-talking into a gift to aid her interpretation. Her fascination with the Shadowlands grew, almost extending to brush against necromancy, and she became more in touch with the arcane again. There was an innate connection to death and the arcane within her, and she would finally begin to sate it. At this point, she had lost any ability to heal with the Light, or fight with the Void. Quotes "It’s just a little sad, that, as I get closer to understanding my calling and my abilities, that I am pushed further from those I love… further from… feeling like a real person. It’s a really empty feeling. Empty, like... space, I guess." "Nothing is sweeter at the marrow. Stop getting drunk off of my blood, and drink wine for once." "Death doesn't seem to take with me." "Shrapnel is still shrapnel at the end of the day, and I am alone with the things I have done." "Remember the one dream, from long ago, where we took the cold bodies out of the lake, and dressed them in warm clothes again." "Life is full of little surprises. Unfortunately, this is one of them." "If you want it all, you cannot be distracted by the illusion you've created." "I nevertheless, and to my detriment, act on my heart." "Zero one, one zero, one one... oh, it's impossible to count the stars." "You are what you eat, so... to become a god, I'd presume you must find one and eat it." "You can always tell when a broken clock has stopped ticking... it's a little harder with people." "Deep down, under all the blood and viscera, there's something to behold. But, seriously, I need to clean that up." "Though you're right here, I look at the stars, still. They seem closer." Trivia She loves the Sporeggar, and Zangarmarsh in general. External Links Tumblr Category:Characters Category:Horde Category:Quel'Thalas Peerage